So Hard To Do
by tielan
Summary: John doesn't know why everyone's trying to be nice. It's not as though he cares about her like that.


**So Hard To Do, So Easy To Say**

Ronon caught him as he was heading back to the infirmary, falling into step beside him.

"We need to talk."

John had a feeling he knew what Ronon wanted to talk about. He wasn't in the mood right now, but that wasn't going to stop Ronon. Worry made his words pointed, "Look, I understand about the Mavens. You were right to be wary but--" The other man frowned, and John paused mid-sentence. "Not the Mavens?"

"The Athosians need to know about Teyla."

Was that all? John kept going. "Yeah, Elizabeth said she's going to contact them in the morning--"

Ronon shook his head. "Not that." The younger man stopped in the empty corridor, and John turned with a faint feeling of unease.

They'd all had a long day - an early morning start, the meeting with the Mavens going wrong and ending in bloodshed, a long flight back to Atlantis, and an equally long wait during the operation. Yet Ronon thought this needed to be brought up now...

"What?"

Dreadlocks shifted as Ronon glanced around, then spoke quietly and quickly. "There's a guy among the Athosians who'll want to know about Teyla."

_There's a guy among the Athosians..._

John knew he was breathing because he was still standing. And nothing had changed in the last few seconds, because he was still standing in the corridor looking at Ronon. One breath dragged in, then another. "How long?"

She'd never said anything, never hinted that there was a man she saw when she went back to her people. John never asked - it wasn't something that came up in casual conversation. One of the pilots flew her out - or sometimes the Doc when he had rounds to do among the Athosians - but John had never thought...

"At least one moon," Ronon said, his voice still low and quiet. "Maybe a bit longer."

_Do I know him?_ John wanted to ask, but that question wasn't his to ask. And wasn't to the point. "Do you know who he is?"

He'd never seen Ronon look cagey before. The other man looked away, then down at his hands, as though ashamed of being in on the knowledge. "Yes."

"All right." John stared into empty air for a moment, his brain grasping at what needed to be done. "It's pretty late out on the mainland right now. Tomorrow morning, get Lorne or someone to fly you out to the Athosian camp."

Ronon arched a brow. "You want him brought here?"

_No._ "Teyla will," he said. "And he'll want to be with her."

"Sheppard..."

He didn't like the way Ronon said his name, as though an apology was on the way. There was nothing to apologise for.

"I'll clear it with Elizabeth, but it's not going to be an issue. The Athosians come through here all the time to get off-world."

Ronon hesitated, but nodded. "Okay." But as he turned to go, his hand came down on John's shoulder. He squeezed once before his steps faded into the city.

John forced himself to keep walking.

--

Sometime before dawn, after a night of restless tossing, he went back to the infirmary.

John stood by the bed, but kept his hands in his pockets.

The doc was cautiously hopeful with the operation, and there'd been no second scare during the night. The worst was past. Or maybe yet to come.

His fingers curled in on each other, feeling oddly sweaty and sticky, and slightly sore, as though he'd been gripping something too hard and it had left an imprint on his palm.

_There's a guy among the Athosians..._

He remembered noticing she'd been going back to the mainland a little more often than before. He'd figured it was homesickness.

Sometimes John had wondered how Teyla's people managed her absence. It wasn't as though he was ever there when Teyla wasn't, or saw how they lived on a day-to-day basis. He'd supposed they were okay with her travelling with his team, living in Atlantis. He'd supposed Teyla was okay with it.

She was still on his team, after all.

Beckett found him sitting in one of the chairs when the morning shift came in to take over. "No change during the night?"

"I wasn't here all night," said John, glancing up. In the corridor beyond Beckett, he could see the sky's first light brightening the corridor that led out to the city. Morning.

Blue eyes glanced at him with something like kindness. "Aye, well. She's stable so far. It's looking good." He made a few checks on the board at the foot of her bed, and lightly touched her arm, then rested the back of his hand against her forehead. "No fever, we'll take some measurements, but it seems she's out of the woods."

It wasn't relief, because John knew how relief felt. Relief was lighter, the sensation of being able to breathe freely again.

He stood. "I'll be back after breakfast."

"Colonel." Beckett's quiet call turned him at the door. "Patients do better when they've got someone who cares about them nearby."

He wasn't sure what he saw in the doctor's expression, but it stung like a bullet graze in his flesh.

John just nodded and kept going.

--

John was waiting in the 'jumper bay when Lorne and Ronon came back with the Athosian man.

He recognised the man by face; lean build, dark hair, a face that might be considered good-looking, a typical Athosian male. "Colonel Sheppard." The pale eyes regarded him, direct and clear. "I am Hiren. Thank you for letting me come to see her."

"Oh, it's no problem," he said, and hardly recognised his own voice. "Thank Ronon. He was the one who suggested you." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ronon's expression, stoic and closed.

"How is she?"

John took a deep breath. "Dr. Beckett says she's out of danger, which is good. They'll probably keep her in the infirmary for as long as possible, just to be sure." Light voice, easy tone, no problem.

He could do this.

The infirmary was still mostly empty, although Beckett came over to meet Hiren. "It's a pleasure to meet you. She's stable, although she hasn't woken."

"What happened?"

Beckett looked to John and Hiren followed the gaze.

"A fight," he said, stilling the quiver of memory that sent goosebumps up his arms.

"Knife wound," came Ronon's addition. "Across the gut."

Hiren exhaled slowly. His fingers wound into Teyla's limp ones, convulsively closing around hers. "How bad was it?"

"Close," said John.

_Too close._

"Thank you."

"She's important to us, too, son," said Beckett, brisk but kind. He patted Teyla's arm once and headed back to whatever he'd been doing before.

Ronon turned away, glancing once at John before exiting the way they'd come. John ignored the look his team-mate gave him and stayed, not quite knowing why. But he did step back from the side of the bed. He felt like he was facing off against the Athosian over Teyla. That wasn't right.

Hiren looked up at the movement. "Will she wake up?"

"We're hoping so. Sometime."

The other man bent and pressed the knuckles of Teyla's limp hands to his forehead. Not an Athosian gesture, but the meaning was pretty obvious.

If this had been the movies, then Teyla would have woken up at the other man's gesture. Thankfully, it wasn't and she didn't.

And John couldn't stay for when she did.

It took a moment to get his voice working again. "Ahh...I have...things to do," he said. "You'll be fine here. If you need to go back, ask the doctor and he'll call Major Lorne or someone to take you back to the mainland."

_Just don't ask me._

"Colonel." John met a gaze filled with gratefulness for the life of the woman he loved. At that moment, he wanted to be anywhere but here, with anyone but the Athosian man. He wanted to be doing anything else but looking back at the earnest eyes of Teyla's lover. "I know she holds you in great respect and affection."

Like coming second place.

John's shoulders were in knots, but he went for offhand. "Yeah, well... Beckett was right. She's...important to us."

His answer satisfied the Athosian, at least. John wished it was enough to satisfy him.

He paused at the door, looking back in time to see the other man's fingers slide across the broad, still brow with a tenderness that stung.

_She's got someone who cares for her nearby._

John watched for a moment, then turned and walked away.

- **fin** -


End file.
